Mute
by purrpickle
Summary: It's a video none of them want to see. Emily captured, bound, tortured... Experimented on. But as the hours pass, it soon becomes obvious that the video itself is more damaging than the torture could ever be. Emily/JJ femslash.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **I do not own Criminal Minds nor the characters within. Alrighty, confession time: I came up with this idea almost two years ago, but shelved it and never actually sat down to write it. But l recently rediscovered Criminal Minds fanfiction, and remembered the idea. As I've been exploring all sorts of things with my writing lately, I figured, why not go ahead and type it out? What's the point of never taking a chance?

So this is me taking a chance. Enjoy~

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><p>The metal gleamed in the harsh fluorescent light. With dental retractors forced into her mouth and pulling the muscle far past what was natural, the UnSub hummed in contentment as the scalpel sliced through and off.<p>

Chest heaving with loud, disjointed moans that quickly changed into burbling, choking noises as blood filled her mouth, spilling out over her lips and swallowed with her hyperventilation, Emily's eyes rolled up in the back of her head.

Still humming contentedly, the UnSub brought the tongue up in the air to look at it, making a gruesome trophy for him to study. "You've done well, Emily," he smiled, satisfied, taking a moment to pat the top of her head almost as an afterthought. Barely paying attention to her shackled, shuddering body, he removed the retractors and untied the leather straps keeping her neck immobile. With a waterfall of thick, dark red pouring down her chin and neck and chest, splattering on her lap and bound hands, Emily pitched forward as far as she could. Sobbing, ugly sounds reverberating from her lungs and throat, she didn't react to the sudden plunging darkness that signified she was alone once again.

Undaunted, the silent witness switched to night vision, allowing the live feed being fed directly to Garcia's main computer continue to show, without prejudice, the agents crowded in Garcia's office just what was happening to their missing teammate in real time.

The camera had started recording five minutes before he'd even entered the room, obviously a remote connection. Garcia, already on edge from the forbidding video that had suddenly popped up in her e-mail, watched in horror as an unidentified man dragged Emily's unconscious body into the concrete cell, bound her quickly and expertly into the only other piece of furniture aside from a low table that took up the far wall, then waited almost patiently for her to wake up. Quickly contacting Hotch and the rest of the team, none of whom even aware of Emily's kidnapping, they'd arrived just in time to see Emily moan and move, the UnSub immediately drawing her into a running conversation.

They'd watched as every so often the man paused to accent his words with quick, flashing slices of his scalpel along her neck and shoulders, anywhere not covered by her camisole. They'd watched Emily, able to keep her own without angering him unnecessarily, try all she could to free herself, obviously in pain but too stubborn to give up the few times he'd left her alone. But as the hours passed, as no solid leads or information came to the team, dooming her to achingly alone captivity, Emily's desperation grew. Normally hidden behind her compartments, it had been painful watching her realize just what danger she was in – and what danger she was going to be in.

And then they watched him cut out Emily's tongue.

Pure shock and sickening nausea welled up inside each agent as they realized the reality of the action. What that meant for the proud and cultured woman; what it meant for their friend. It wasn't something that could be fixed or treated once she was rescued, and the slump of her body as she shook and wheezed seemed to tell them that in brief moments of awareness, Emily knew this too.

It was horrible and it was senseless. But it was permanent. A lifelong sentence.

Which made it all the more unbelievable when ten hours later, during Reid and Morgan's turn to man the video feed, the young doctor continuing to scan the room for a clue, any clue he may have missed, the darker man shifting with coiled energy, frustrated that there was nothing he could do to help the slowly deteriorating woman on the screen, they watched as Emily coughed up what seemed to be an inordinate amount of black, oily blood, licked dark red stained lips, and worked her jaw to whisper hoarsely, "Damn, that one hurt."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hi everyone! First, thank you so much for the interest in this story. I know you have some questions, but you're going to have to put them on hold for a bit, because this story is going to be told in a 'back and forth' kinda way. Also, this will also answer the question about why I tagged this Emily/JJ femslash. Just because it wasn't in the prologue doesn't mean it doesn't exist. *grins*

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><p>Emily Prentiss had known from the second she met Jennifer Jareau that the woman would be trouble. She was sunshine and coffee, and Emily couldn't look away. The media liaison for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, the woman did much more than just stand in front of cameras or pick which case the team took up. She was beautiful and young and smart, and Emily found herself feeling things she hadn't in a long time.<p>

"Hey, Emily, you free tonight?"

"Hmm?" Without looking up from the report she was writing, Emily shifted her body in the direction JJ's voice had come from.

"You free?" JJ repeated, dropping a hand to idly brush her fingers along the wood of Emily's desk. Catching the motion out of the corner of her eye, Emily managed not to change the expression on her face. She started writing faster.

Finishing the sentence she was working on, Emily slapped the file down in satisfaction, the pen following right after it. "Alright!" she smiled, looking up at JJ properly, "The answer to that question depends on what the rest of your inquiry is."

JJ smiled back, loosely crossing her arms. She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" Lowering her eyes, Emily nodded, "You see, if you were to finish your questioning with, 'Would you like to accompany me to that new club on 4th?,' I'd be more inclined to tell you yes than if you were to end it with, 'My next door neighbor has a fourteen year old who's into Justin Bieber and has tickets to his concert but her parents are busy so I stupidly agreed to take her in their place and I don't want to go alone – '"

"Okay!" Interrupting her, JJ made a face at her. "That was only _once_. You don't need to rub it in."

Emily grinned. "Oh, but that's the fun part."

"Fun part?" Walking back over to his desk with a mug of coffee, Reid smiled curiously at both women. Sliding his mug down, he took a seat.

Before JJ could respond, Emily smoothly offered, "Making fun of JJ."

"Emily!" Lightly slapping Emily's shoulder, JJ huffed, "That's not fair. How was I supposed to know who Justin Bieber _was_? Or that there would be _thousands _of screaming prepubescent girls?"

Emily raised her hands in a placating motion, pushing her chair back a bit to get out of JJ's range. "Hey, _I _knew who he was."

"So? Somehow that didn't surprise me." JJ's tone was full of suggestion, the corners of her lips turning up as she looked at Emily pointedly.

"Hey, what does _that_ mean?"

Sensing he might be kicked out of the conversation completely if he didn't attempt some sort of interruption, Reid slightly raised his voice, "I knew who he was."

That got both women's attention. "How do _you_ – " Emily started, JJ taking up the slack to finish, "Know who Justin Bieber is?" They looked at him in total shock.

Flushing a little at the sudden complete attention, Reid brought his coffee mug up to his mouth. "I find the social phenomenon of teen superstars fascinating. Like, did you know that out of the hundreds of musicians signed to a label each year, only an eighth of them achieve what could be classified as success? And of that eighth, only twelve percent even come _close _to what – ? "

From where she was nodding dismissively throughout his speech, Emily cut in, "Reid. You're a horrible liar."

Reid flushed. "Okay," he looked down, "Garcia pulled me into her office and forced me to watch a video before she would give me the information I asked for."

Emily reached over to pat his shoulder supportively. Then, meeting JJ's eyes, they both nodded decisively. "Garcia."

"You rang, mere mortals? Look upon this goddess and be granted knowledge that lesser gods could not even _attempt_ to comprehend." Walking into the bullpen, Morgan trailing after her, Garcia beamed at the three agents. "Hello, my lovelies. What are we talking about?"

"Uh, Justin Bieber," Reid piped up helpfully.

"Justin Bieber?" Morgan repeated, nodding hello at everyone. Taking up position between JJ and Garcia, he crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, now this I gotta hear."

A broad smile crossed Garcia's face. "Justin Bieber," she gushed dramatically, "Ohh, if only I were privy to the CIA's secret Fountain of Youth serum, I'd be on him like white on rice. I tell you." She waved a hand in the air, "That boy is the poster child for attracting those teetering on the edge of icky cougar-dom."

"I thought that was Taylor Lautner?"

Garcia wheeled around and whacked Emily on the head. "Get with the program, sister! Taylor Lautner – while his abs may still go on for miles and he has an insane amount of charisma – is last year. As well as legal." She added almost in afterthought.

Morgan cleared his throat, conspicuously flexing under his shirt.

Grinning, Garcia wrapped an appreciative hand around Morgan's bicep. "Don't worry, my chocolate Adonis. He has nothing on you."

"Damn right, baby girl. And don't you forget it." Flashing white teeth, Morgan nodded at her, then walked past Reid to take a seat at his own desk. Sitting down, he leaned forward to tease the doctor, "So, Reid, how's the nonexistent gym membership going?"

Letting air out of her mouth, Emily smirked, shaking her head. "Boys," she commented, successfully distracting Garcia and JJ's attention from the two males, "JJ, you were saying…?"

"Hey! Morgan's all man," Garcia bristled, narrowing her eyes at Emily, and Emily raised a hand. "Fine," she nodded, "All man. Now, can we please get back to JJ's original question? I want to hurry before Justin Bieber or anything else gets mentioned." She shot Garcia a pointed look, stopping the redhead from saying the words she had opened her mouth to say. "_No Justin Bieber_," she said strongly, holding Garcia's gaze until she deflated and pouted, throwing a hand in the air to signify she'd acquiesce.

"Ohhkay," JJ watched the interplay between Emily and the technical analyst, doing a good job of purposefully struggling to keep a smile back, "If I may interrupt? Alright, great. Garcia."

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you're here. You can help me convince this one," she tilted her head in Emily's direction, "To come out with us tonight."

Emily crossed her arms. Glancing at the reports on her desk, she mentally calculated how long it would take to finish them, and, waiting until Garcia had finished squealing excitedly about a Girl's Night Out, she schooled her expression, "It takes two to convince me, now?"

"You know it, missy," Garcia looked at Emily over the top of her glasses; because Emily was sitting and Garcia was standing, the effect looked comical, and the redhead had to quickly push her glasses back up her nose and straighten before they slid off her nose. "You're the _queen _of overworking and boredom."

"I am not _boring_!" Emily protested, sitting up ramrod straight and gaping at Garcia. "JJ! Tell her I'm not boring!"

"Well…"

Emily's mouth dropped open as she stared at the knuckle bump Garcia gave JJ. "Meu deus," she muttered under her breath, giving the both of them an unimpressed glare before standing up and walking around both women to make her way to the coffee machine. "Excuse me, ladies," she sniffed pompously, pushing past them, "I am going to get myself some coffee, and then I am going to finish my reports, and then, as you two seem convinced that I am a lame, lame Jane, I will head home to spend a lovely night snuggled up to Sergio and a glass of lame, lame wine." Once her back was turned, she smirked to herself.

"Sacrilege!" Garcia gasped, following after her.

Picking up the coffee carafe, Emily shrugged lightly. "Your loss, really," she teased, rolling her head back to give both of her friends a small quirk of the lips, "Sergio's a handsome boy."

"I don't disagree…" JJ started, mouthing thank you when Emily handed her a filled mug; Emily nodded, smiling, "He is one handsome boy."

"But he has nothing on us: a pair of hot mommas!" Garcia butted in.

Turning, Emily rested her hip against the counter, lifting her mug to her lips to take a sip. "Hot mommas… Sergio…" she orally weighed.

Garcia stared at her. "Prentiss, put the coffee down."

"What?"

"Put the coffee down."

It was Emily's turn to say, "Ohhkay…" Setting the mug down, she absently wiped her hands on her thighs. Looking back up at the redhead after flicking her gaze over to see if JJ knew what was going on, she smiled. "What?"

Barely a second passed before Garcia drew back and poked Emily violently in the shoulder of the arm that had been holding the coffee. "No!" she gesticulated wildly, JJ smothering a laugh at Emily's gobsmacked look, "No contest! You, my dark beauty, cannot say no to a Girl's Night Out! It's not done!" She gestured at herself then at JJ, finally shimmying, "Look at us! We _need _our hot brunette! And face it, Emily Elizabeth Prentiss, there's no way you can say no to our outstanding company and gorgeous bodies and personalities and attraction for all things fun and alcoholic and most likely criminally illegal that we shall never speak of ever again on threat of cyber sabotage that you will never, _never live down_."

A wide smile crossed Emily's face. "Well… If you put it that way…" she picked her mug back up again, "I guess I'll be accompanying you two tonight."

"Yes!" Garcia crowed, doing a victory dance.

Beaming, JJ met Emily's eyes. Her blue eyes full of sparkling merriment and lips turned up in a stunning smile, she dipped her head. Smiling back, Emily allowed her heart to flutter before turning back and chuckling at the quirky analyst's continuing dance.


	3. Chapter 2

"Could… Could it be an optical illusion? Misdirection?" Wringing her hands, Garcia couldn't even take her eyes away from the screen to look at her teammates as she spoke.

"It's like no magic trick I've ever seen…" Reid mumbled, a deep look of concentration on his face. "I mean, her tongue was _absolutely _excised."

JJ, pale and wan since the video had been received, clutched her paper coffee cup as if it was a lifeline. She winced at Reid's plain words. "I just don't _understand _this," she shook her head, voice rough. "_None_ of this. Emily's smart, she's always observant… Have we found out how she was taken, yet?"

Rubbing his forehead, Rossi shook his head. "No. But we've narrowed it down to a time between when she left here yesterday to when her neighbor arrived at her apartment. We're still looking for her car."

Hotchner frowned. "Garcia, can you pull up the first few minutes? I want to check something."

"Yeah… Sure…" the analyst agreed faintly, pushing her chair over to one of the monitors that wasn't showing the video. "Anything you're looking for in particular? 'Cuz I gotta tell you – I've already been up and down, in and out of this footage. A lot more than I ever would have wanted to," she added somewhat below her breath. With a couple clacks, the video popped up. "Here you go."

When Hotchner ignored her comment, leaning in close to the monitor, Morgan shifted. "Hotch?"

"Something Rossi said got me thinking…" Hotchner started. He narrowed his eyes, "Garcia, zoom in on Emily. Thank you. …If she was taken while she was on the road, I want to look for injuries indicative of an automobile accident she may have already had before the video started."

"Instead of being caused when he abducted her like we assumed," Reid spoke up, pulling his hands out of his pockets, along with a rubber band he started stretching.

Hotchner nodded, eyes trained on the video.

The image was grainy, the quality of the video not the best it could be. However, with the enhancements Garcia made, Hotchner pointed, "Garcia, freeze." When she did, he immediately pulled out his cell phone. Offering a short, "Excuse me," he was already on the line with the local traffic control and striding out of the room, Rossi following a second later, "Yes, please, this is SSA Hotchner with the FBI, Quantico. Can you fax me the list of all the traffic accidents reported in the last twenty four hours? Thank you."

Morgan quickly took his place. "Well I'll be _damned_," he shook his head, scowling, "How the hell did we _miss _this?"

"What? What is it?"

Morgan let out a sound of frustration at JJ's question. "Facial injuries that coincide with a rear-end impact. You can see it on the bridge of her nose and forehead. Dammit, we should have _seen _this."

"Uhm…" Garcia raised her hand, looking sick and disturbed and afraid of what she was saying, "I hate to add more freakiness to this, but…" She hesitantly met everyone's gazes, "I think we didn't see this because…" The frozen image was replaced by another video, which she froze and zoomed in. "This was five hours later. Anyone see what's missing…?"

"But… That's _impossible_," Reid squinted, deep lines appearing on his forehead. "They're… They're _gone_. It's a little hard to see with the caked blood, which explains why we didn't notice it earlier, but the bruises definitely aren't there anymore."

"Okay, so you see it too?" Garcia almost begged for more confirmation, "Please tell me I'm not the only one seeing it, because I don't want to be the only one seeing it. I couldn't _handle _being the only one seeing it. I mean, after the _tongue _and the _blood_ – " When her voice started to edge with hysteria, Morgan knelt down next to her.

"Baby girl. Baby girl. C'mon, look at me," he placed his hands around hers, trying to get Garcia to look at him, "C'mon, this isn't the time to freak out. I know it's confusing, and scary, but panicking won't help explain it, okay? And it won't help us find Emily."

Garcia sniffled, but she nodded. "You're right," she tried to state determinedly, even with her eyes tearing up and her chin trembling, "You're right. It may not make sense, and it feels like we've been dropped into a freaky X-Files universe, but that won't help."

Morgan smiled, squeezing her hand. "That's it, Momma. You think you can get on one of these computers of yours and see if you can beat Hotchner and Rossi in getting information on traffic accidents?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Garcia dipped her head, giving him a thankful smile and taking her hand back, "Of course I can. Now, even though it's incredibly nice having you at my feet – as it fulfills some of my favorite fantasies – I need you to move so I can get to work." She made shooing motions with her hands.

Morgan smirked, shaking his head and standing up, "That'a girl." Then, sobering, he turned to Reid and JJ who were focused on the current stream, "Now – "

"Oh, oh _god_. Oh _god_." Voice breaking, JJ interrupted him, face paling even more. Body rigid, her fingers tightened hard enough on her coffee cup that it crumpled in her hand, the smell of black coffee quickly taking over the room as it splattered down her hand and arm, thankfully not landing on any of Garcia's computers.

Garcia immediately jumped up. "Okay, JJ, honey, let's get you out of here before anything else happens. It's time to go to the bathroom, don't you think?" Without waiting for an answer and studiously avoiding looking at the feed, the redhead reached out and forcefully turned JJ away from the computer, "Well, I do think, so we're going. The list can wait."

"But… But…" Almost stumbling, totally oblivious of the ruined coffee cup she still held and the hot coffee burning into her skin, JJ let Garcia shepherd her out. "That sick _bastard_," she whispered brokenly, shoulders shaking. "Garcia, he, he…"

Pushing them into the women's restroom, Garcia shoved her to the nearest sink, quickly running cold water on her hand. "Sweetie?" she asked reluctantly, biting her lip to keep her own tears back; the expression in her best friend's wet eyes was scaring her, and she knew she didn't want to know.

She listened anyway.


End file.
